


Namaste

by treez_r_green



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treez_r_green/pseuds/treez_r_green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma forces Erik to go to a yoga class against his will. He soon changes his mind when he gets a look at the teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Namaste

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this aaages ago for a prompt on the kink meme. This post on tumblr inspired me to edit it and post it on here! http://inthunderlightningorinrain.tumblr.com/post/58301615885/guys-they-do-yoga-together
> 
> Unbetaed so feel free to point out any mistakes.

“Emma, honestly, I do not need to relax, and I certainly do not need to go to any yoga class,” Erik states calmly and rationally (he definitely does not huff, he never huffs). He’s sat at his desk in his office. The door was shut, which is usually a sign that he is not to be disturbed under any circumstances, upon pain of death or dismemberment. His door is always shut. Emma has, as usual, blatantly disregarded his wise, reasonable and not at all idiotic and antisocial, _thank you,_ rule and barged her way in regardless.

“Erik, honey,” she replies in an exasperated tone, well, as near to exasperated as Emma ever gets, which is to say, as about as exasperated as a block of ice, “I love you, really, I do, but you made three interns cry today and threw a stapler at Hank’s head, poor boy was only a whisker away from needing stitches. You need all the relaxing you can get.” Erik narrows his eyes in suspicion. While the facts are strictly true, Erik can’t help but feel she is exaggerating somewhat. If he didn’t know her better, he’d say she was putting it on. That’s not Emma though, he’s the one with the ‘flair for the dramatic’, as his mother is always telling him. She is definitely up to something though. 

“Well if the morons in HR keep insisting on hiring these incompetent…” he stops when he sees the icy glare directed towards him, Emma’s the only one in their department who isn’t afraid to stand up to him, and boy does she let him know it. 

“Right, I will consider going to your stupid hippy class if you agree to fill in all my expense forms for me,” he says, staring at Emma defiantly. He hates doing his expense forms, isn’t that what worker minions are for? And calculators? He’s been trying to palm them off on someone else for weeks, which only means he’s been getting more and more behind. He’s sure Emma will tell him exactly where he can shove his expense forms, but it’s worth a shot. He crumbles approximately thirty seconds into their little stare off. “If I agree to do this, I said _if_ ,” he emphasizes, at Emma’s premature smirk of triumph, “it’s only because I’m running out of excuses not to go to that moronic ‘team bonding’ thing they keep sending me emails about.”

“Oh, so it has nothing to do with Moira threatening to send you to anger management classes, again?” Emma inquires innocently.

“What anger management classes? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” He snaps, whilst attempting to surreptitiously hide the pile of leaflets with asinine titles like ‘From Chaos to Calm’ and ‘You Can Beat the Anger’ that are teetering on the edge of his desk. “Ok, fine! I will go once, and if I hate it, which I’m sure I will, I’m leaving immediately and never going back again.” He’s pretty sure he’s walking right into a trap here but there’s no use arguing with Emma, she gets inside your head until you’re forced to give in, it’s one of the reasons he likes her so much; her manipulative streak appeals to his ruthless nature. 

Emma laughs. “Oh trust me honey, you will be going back every week when you see who the yoga instructor is,” she smirks. Oh no. Erik knew she was up to something, but matchmaking? Absolutely not.

“Oh no, absolutely not. You are not trying to set me up again! You know how well that worked out last time.” He should have known that was what this was about, after she tricked him into it last time. In his defense, he hadn't known her for very long then, he wasn't familiar enough with her devious ways to know how to evade them. As he clearly knows so much better now. He sighs. 

“Ok, so Angel wasn’t exactly your type…” She admits.

“Not my type!” He exclaims, “what gave that away? Maybe the fact that she’s a woman!”

“Ok, don’t get upset about it, so I didn’t know you well back then, but believe me when I say this one is going to be right up your street.” She winks at him, she actually winks at him then sashays away in her white five inch heels, how she gets away with wearing those to work is anyone’s guess. God he needs a coffee, he thinks, pushing back from his desk with far more force than necessary and striding off after her. 

***

By the time Friday rolls around Erik is more than ready for this dreadful week to end. He only just managed to get his latest project sent off before the deadline, no thanks to the complete incompetence of the intern who managed to spill coffee all over the final draft of the proposal so he’d had to re-print it all over again. 

Ok, so maybe it was a bit harsh to dump the remains of his own coffee over her head (it had long gone cold, he wouldn’t want to scald the girl, he’s not a complete monster) especially since she was already whimpering before she’d actually managed tell him about the incident, but really, is it so hard to drink coffee without spilling it everywhere? Erik manages to do it several times a day (when he isn’t pouring it over bird-brained interns, that is). 

He gathers his briefcase and suit jacket and walks to the lift, congratulating himself that he actually managed to leave work on time for once. Emma sidles up to him whilst he’s waiting for the lift.

“You haven’t forgotten about the yoga class tomorrow morning have you?” She asks him, even though there’s no way he could have forgotten when he’s had memos reminding him popping up on his computer every hour since she first told him about it.

“No, Emma I haven’t forgotten,” he says as the lift doors ding open and they both get in “I’ll be there at 9am sharp, just like you told me in the 6 billion memos you’ve sent,” he says, in the exasperated tone he is often forced to take with Emma.

“Don’t grit your teeth darling, it makes you look constipated,” she says then trips out of the lift leaving him with a brief “See you tomorrow!” 

Damn, if only that woman was less competent at her job and a little more afraid of him then maybe he could dislike her instead of going along with every mad scheme she concocts.

***

At 8.30am the next morning there’s a loud knocking at Erik’s door. He pulls himself out of bed and answers the door clad in only his boxers, bed head and a layer of scruff round his jaw.

“Well,” says Emma, pushing past him in a white cropped sports top and white drawstring pants so thin they’re almost see-through. “I’m sure the ladies of the class will appreciate the view but put some clothes on will you?”

If he refrains from making a witty retort about Emma’s own clothing, it’s only because it’s way too early on a Saturday to be thinking of that shit. Honest.

“Emma, what are you doing here?” He says.

“Yoga, remember. 9am? Now hurry up we’re going to be late.”

“But I thought I was going to meet you there,” he answers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It is definitely too early on a Saturday to be dealing with Emma.

“Well maybe I didn’t believe that you would actually show up. Here, I brought you something.” She says, handing him a takeaway cup and wandering off in the direction of his bedroom.

“Your faith in me is so encouraging,” he calls sarcastically. “If this is coffee, I take back every bad thing I ever said about you.” Erik says, going to take a sip of whatever it is.

“Not, quite,” she answers, coming out of the bedroom, “but it will make you feel more awake. Now, drink up and put these on.” She shoves a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants at him.

He takes a quick gulp of the drink before setting it down and immediately regrets it.  
“Eurgh, Emma, what the hell is this!? It tastes like compost!”

“It’s a raw vegetable smoothie, it’s good for you, and how the hell would you know what compost tastes like!?” She says, shoving him into the bathroom to get changed, “you have five minutes!”

When Erik emerges he feels slightly more human and Emma hustles him out of the door and into her car. 

They arrive at the gym with ten minutes to spare and Erik takes a look at the building in front of him. It’s a part of the college campus but anyone can go to classes, Erik just hopes that 9am on a Saturday is too early for most students so he won’t be the oldest person in the class. 

His hope diminishes when he sees a group of three twenty-something girls bouncing through the gym entrance, giggling to each other. If he could think of a way of having Emma fired then he’d never have to put up with this ritual humiliation, except what she’d do to him in revenge would be far worse than any yoga class. Better just suck it up, he thinks and follows Emma through the glass doors. 

When they get to the room the class is going to be held in Emma makes him take his shoes off and they step into what seems like more of a hippy temple than a room at a gym. It’s fairly small, Erik can’t imagine there will be more than ten people in the class, the space isn’t big enough. There’s a haphazard circle of mats strewn around the room and other equipment piled at the back. 

Far from the walls being bare as he would expect, there’s posters on the walls, diagrams of the human body labeling muscle groups, oriental wall hangings and, quite randomly, a world map. Erik’s feeling more and more dubious about this by the minute. 

As he’d feared and suspected, Erik is the oldest person in the class by a mile but he’s not the only male. There’s one youngish guy with wild red hair who looks like he’s either been meditating or smoking pot. Possibly both. The others in the class are all young female college students, including the three Erik saw enter the building earlier. 

Erik’s just thinking of giving up and going home when someone else enters the room. By the way the gigglers suddenly shut up, sit up straight and focus all their attention on the newcomer, he can only assume that this is the instructor.

He can honestly say that he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the yoga instructor. Maybe if pushed he would have thought some hippy type, or a young woman with dreads and a lot of piercings. This, he was definitely not expecting. The young man who introduces himself as Charles looks to be in his late twenties. He looks wholesome, clean-cut with a strong British accent, floppy hair and blue, blue eyes. He’s absolutely gorgeous and exactly Erik’s type.

Emma’s probably wearing her ‘told you so’ smirk right now but Erik is too busy staring to notice. He’s so lost in his reverie in fact that he misses the entirety of Charles’s introduction speech and therefore has no idea what he’s doing when the first pose is called out.

He copies Emma and relaxes into the pose, resting on his knees, his back curled over and head touching the floor. This seems ok, he thinks to himself, maybe he can get a hang of this yoga lark.

What he fails to anticipate however, is that this is just the rest pose and the class gets steadily harder from then on out. It’s clear that this isn’t the beginner’s class he was hoping for. The rest of the class are all bending themselves into seemingly impossible positions with ease, Erik has no idea what half the words coming out of Charles’s mouth mean, but he likes the way his voice sounds when he says them.

He sort of gives up half way through attempting to reach the floor from a standing position with his legs akimbo and the rest of the class seem to have moved on to balancing their entire body weight on their arms. 

Then Charles comes over and asks if Erik minds him touching him and Erik must make some kind of noise of consent because suddenly Charles’s hands are on him and he’s bending in ways he didn’t think were possible and he’s instantly praying to every deity he can think of that he won’t get hard right now because good lord Charles smells incredible and this is the closest he’s gotten to actual sex in months. 

Emma’s smirking at him knowingly but since she’s currently upside down it makes her face look all weird and contorted. He comforts himself with that knowledge and concentrates on resisting the urge to tackle Charles to the floor and kiss him breathless in front of the entire class. He curses the fact that he’s in a room full of strangers and not somewhere more private. Then again, his muscles would probably collapse from the exertion anyway and he’d end up in an embarrassing tangle of limbs before he could even get to the kissing part, so it’s probably for the best. 

Charles finally returns to the front of the class and leaves Erik to agonize in peace. Just when Erik’s thinking that he might never walk again, Charles is taking them through some final stretches and dismissing the class. Erik has just about convinced his legs that they will be able to support him to stand fully upright when he looks up and notices that everyone else has already packed up and is filing out the door. Charles is the only one left in the room, busy packing away equipment. Emma leers at him as she exits the room and winks at him before making some complicated hand gesture which he thinks means that she’s going to wait for him in the car, or maybe she’s going to get a drink at the café? He’s not really sure except it means she’s leaving him alone with Charles.

Erik’s just about made it to an upright seated position when Charles looks round and notices he’s still there. He smiles at Erik, soft and warm and walks over to him, offering him a hand to help him up. Erik wobbles slightly and Charles catches him with an arm around his waist.

“I take it this was your first yoga class?” Charles asks, eyes smiling.

“That obvious, huh?” Erik smiles wryly, “My friend Emma convinced me to come, she thinks I need help relaxing. She could have taken me to an easier class though, I’m sorry if I held everyone up.” He smiles apologetically.

“Not at all,” says Charles. He removes his arm from around Erik’s waist and Erik immediately misses the warmth at the same time as he notices their proximity and just how little clothing they are both wearing. 

Something about this guy has Erik decidedly off his game, he’s usually much smoother than this when it comes to chatting up men, not fighting off a blush like some awkward teenager. He’s suddenly really glad that Emma isn’t here to witness this humiliation or he’d never live it down at work on Monday.

“Well um, I’m Erik, Erik Lensherr.” He says, holding his hand out to shake Charles’s, a gesture which seems kind of redundant now that Charles has already had his hands on parts of Erik’s body he can’t afford to dwell on right now if he wants to get out of this with his dignity still intact.

Charles takes his proffered hand. He has a firm, strong grip, just what Erik likes to see in a man, it’s such a turn off to him if it feels like shaking hands with a dead fish. 

“Charles Xavier,” responds Charles. 

“I’m sorry,” Erik starts, realizing he’s been preventing Charles from packing up with his awkward, teenage crushing. “I’m keeping you back, let me help you with the equipment.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Charles says and Erik starts to help him fold the spare mats away and stack them at the back of the room.

It only takes them a few minutes to finish tidying the room but Charles and Erik fall into easy conversation and Erik learns that Charles is in fact a genetics professor at the college and only teaches yoga on the side. 

“I’d come to classes anyway to unwind so I thought I might as well take them myself and earn some extra cash while I’m at it,” he clarifies.

“That’s a smart idea,” Erik says, “I don’t really do anything besides work, oh God that makes me sound like an utter bore doesn’t it?”

Charles chuckles at that and Erik instantly falls in love with the way Charles eyes light up when he laughs, he resolves there and then to make it happen as often as he possibly can.

“No, not at all, my friend,” Charles assures him, “you seem like a man who takes pride in his work and that can never be a bad thing. However, in that case I am very glad you decided to come to my class.” He says with a twinkle in his eye that implies all sorts of things to Erik’s sex-starved mind and he’s encouraged by the fact that maybe, just maybe, Charles is flirting with him.

“Well, if you wish to further improve the state of my social life, perhaps you would like to join me for coffee some time?” Erik’s infinitely glad that the awkward teenager in him has managed to retreat long enough for him to ask Charles out. 

Charles turns an impish grin on him before replying, “Make it dinner and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Erik grins and as they make arrangements for their date he thinks he’s going to owe Emma big-time for this, but it will be so worth it.


End file.
